July is hot in NC. Very, very hot. I've lived here my whole life so I've become accustomed to it. But it is still hot.
We sold a house in July. The house I grew up in and lived in for the first 22 years of my life. The house where I brought all of my babies home from the hospital. The house that held lots of memories, good and bad.
When my husband and I got married, we moved to Charlotte. He worked for a summer camp, so after our honeymoon, we moved to camp, and lived in a cabin with two other people. Lots of stories there. Short version - camp life is hard for newlyweds. Shortly before the camp season was to end, my mother died. Lots and lots of stories there, too. Short version, my dad remarried later, and the house I grew up in was now vacant.
Fastforward to February, 1995. We decide to move back home. And we moved into my old home. With all of its stuff that my dad left behind. Lots and lots of stuff. We worked and worked and worked and worked. Remodeling. Cleaning out junk. Ripping out cabinets, and walls and floors and ............. Everything. But it was still home. Full of memories. Some good and some bad.
In February, 1996 we brought home our first-born, right in the middle of remodeling the kitchen. Stove was on cinder blocks and you could see the basement through the kitchen floor. I can't believe I brought a baby into that.
3 babies and 2 churches later, my husband accepts a position at a church in the next county. It's really too far of a drive, so we decide to rent the house and make a move. Our renters are great and the house stayed rented from October, 2004 until May, 2007. When the renters moved out, we decide to try our luck at selling the house. Our plan was to keep it for a college fund, but with the change in the neighborhood, we felt like we may be able to get a decent amount for the house at that time.
We worked like dogs during June and listed the house on July 4th. We had an offer on it two days later. It closed in August. Praise the Lord. We got to pay off our van, have some $$ in savings and I could take my girl to see Cinderella's house. (We knew at this point that A would have surgery in November, so we wanted to go to Disney before that time.)
It was tough getting to the point where I could emotionally sell the house. My father died of lung cancer in June, 2001, so the house was really symbolic of my heritage, for lack of a better understanding. I was ready though and we were thankful for God's timing.